And so it is
by Nanuk
Summary: Thoughts after watching the episodes ... turned into ficlets.
1. Ch 1 - 13x15 Civil War

Story: And so it is

Author: Nanuk

Disclaimer: Disclaimed

Summary: A collection of thoughts popping up in my head after watching the episodes ...

 **13x15 "Civil War" - Vignette**

The rain had smelled like Spring that night.

It was the first time that year that she smelled it, that fresh earthy fragrance that came from warm drops and soft ground eager to erupt into bulbs and colours.

He had been so quiet, she remembered, so broken. He had asked her if she wanted to be married to him and it had broken her heart to hear him, hear the resignation in his voice sounding out like a klaxon. There were no lost cases, but lost people, more than enough.

It was Winter where she lived, though, and still raining.


	2. Ch 2 - 13x17 Till I hear it from you

**13x17 "Till I hear it from you"**

It was the sense of pure bafflement that filled him, head to toe, and it was that feeling of not knowing what to do, of not knowing what he _could_ do that he didn't like. For a moment he considered doing something stupid, just to get her attention, and then he didn't, because it would be foolish and no help at all.

In all truth, though, he just felt numb, wondering absently if that was the way it was going to be, with the both of them stuck and unable to reach across the abyss that was incessantly widening between them.

It had hurt to have Christina's name thrown in his face, and he wondered whether he should offer to leave her as well, the woman he had thought to be his second chance and who now couldn't seem to find her way back to him. Or maybe she was right, and it was him who had to find a way because she couldn't any longer. And what would happen if this was not her circumspect way of asking him to find a solution for them? What if this was her way of letting him feel that there was no chance for them to ever resolve what had been broken?

He was turning in circles and he knew it. He sighed, wondering if some kind of dramatic gesture would bring her back and then decided that he had had enough drama in his life to last through all eternity, and so had she.

Where did he see himself, then, in a year, in ten years? Would he be able to look at her, day after day, in hallways, in operating rooms, and not think of what had been lost, not talk to her because there was nothing he would be able to say to her that didn't bring back the memories, and nothing short of his own castration would suffice? Should he offer her a divorce and the file of a child up for adoption along with it?

The answer, to any one of her questions, would have been _yes_. But how could you give up your heart's desire, he wondered, how could you ever hope to explain that most irrational of feelings that couldn't be explained but just felt and acknowledged?

She had asked him to deny himself because she was afraid of his greatest wish, and he had let her because he was afraid of her fear. And yet, he couldn't think of one more satisfying sound than the laughter of children, the one sound that made life bearable and worth-while, and just maybe would redeem him… well, maybe one other sound, but he smothered the thought even as it emerged, because whatever else his wife was feeling for him right now, affection certainly wasn't among those feelings.

 _His wife_ … She had answered his question of whether she even wanted to be married to him readily enough, but he wondered whether the answer wouldn't be different, were he to ask again.

 _When you told me you wanted five kids, did you lie to me,_ he wanted to ask so badly, and didn't. _When you vowed to love me, did you lie?_

By now he was beginning to think that if they would have had the chance to steadily grow, together, they would have managed. As it was, with all their doubts, with their angry words and the abyss between them, he was starting to retreat, and hating himself for not seeing any way out of their misery but to give up and let her go. He didn't do well with those, but when he looked at her, at the way her face closed whenever she saw him, he didn't have any hope left for himself.

It was time for him to make some plans.


	3. Ch 3 - 13x19 What's Inside

13x19 What's inside

He gives her space when she needs it, or tries to. He doesn't speak to her in days that turn into weeks, he doesn't seek her out in hallways, doesn't search for her face in crowds. He doesn't enter rooms he knows she is in. If he does, he avoids touching her by not being close enough for longing hands to reach her.

Her face looks relaxed and happy when he catches a glimpse of her, making him wonder where or when they became strangers going their separated ways instead of husband and wife. He feels like a ghost, clinging onto some non-existent fabrication of history as if letting go would mean to fade away.

He wonders if she still wears her wedding band. He can't remember. His own, when he twists it on his finger, leaves no mark, worn for too short a time, on too pale skin. He should take it off, he knows, acknowledge publicly another failure, yet is too stubborn to admit any kind of defeat.

He should move on, and finds himself thinking about it. She has left him and told him not to find her, so now he is doing the same. He can't fight like April did, and he is tired of waiting. Tired of hoping. He is just so tired. Of pretending that he is fine when he feels her slipping away from him, distancing herself from him as if his mere presence causes her pain. Maybe it does.

And so he takes off his wedding ring. He signs the papers, signs his contract, puts it all in the mail.

And then, his foot already on the front step, he doesn't leave, because doing so would prove Nathan right. Instead, he goes to work and tries not to think about her. He gives her the space she needs. He doesn't speak to her in days that turn into weeks, he doesn't seek her out in hallways, doesn't search for her face in crowds. He doesn't enter rooms he knows she is in. He tries not to think about her, and fails every day.


End file.
